Where'd You Learn to Tango?
by Today4U365
Summary: Short oneshot. 13 year old Mark is complaining about having to take tango lessons, and Roger is cracking jokes...


**Where'd You Learn to Tango?**

**Summary: Thirteen-year-old Mark is complaining about having to take tango lessons, and Roger is cracking jokes…**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Roger Davis rubbed his hands together gleefully as he eyed the freshly unwrapped piece of gooey chocolate cake his mother had packed in his lunch. He was fully prepared to shove his face into the sticky, chocolaty goodness when his best friend blew into the cafeteria like a hurricane. Mark Cohen stormed to the back of the room and threw himself into a chair, jarring the table a tipping Roger's milk precariously close to the edge.

"Excuse you!" Roger said hotly, grabbing his precious milk before it fell. He would, after all, need it to wash down the cake. Mark responded with something between a grunt and a whine. "What's got your panties in a knot?" Roger demanded.

"Tango lessons!" Mark burst out angrily, startling Roger, who hadn't expected his friend to speak. "They're making me take tango lessons! What did I ever do to them? Huh? What? Freakin' _tango lessons_, Roger!"

"…_Tango _lessons?" Roger repeated, wrinkling his nose in an attempt to smother his grin. As Mark gave a deep sigh, a sure sign that a long discussion was imminent, Roger gazed wistfully at his cake, one that was apparently not destined to be eaten today, and wrapped it back in its cellophane, putting it in his backpack.

"Freakin' _tango lessons_! Mark nearly shrieked. A few heads turned in their direction, but as usual, a majority of the other students ignored the commotion from the boys' table. "At the Scarsdale Jewish Community Center."

"Suck it up, Cohen," Roger said, not unkindly, coughing to muffle his giggles. He knew that Mark would freak if Roger were laughing at him. "It could be worse."

"Nanette Himmelfarb is my dance partner," Mark said monotonously, staring dully at Roger. Roger stared back for a moment, shaking his head slowly.

"Dude," he choked out, "it officially can't get any worse," he said unhelpfully, letting out a rather undignified snort. Then the dams feel and he burst into loud and uncontrolled laughter.

"Thanks for being so understanding," Mark snapped irritably. Roger slumped on the table, attempting to pull himself together. Mark crossed his arms and glared at his so-called best friend.

"Do I need to call a doctor?" came a familiar and welcome voice. Mark looked hopefully up at Tom Collins, knowing that his older friend would support him. Collins grinned at Mark before eyeing Roger in concern. "You gonna be okay, man?" he asked worriedly.

"Mark…Mark has to..." Roger gasped out, before collapsing into giggles again. Collins watched him warily.

"Only Roger could giggle without sounding like a total girl," he murmured to Mark.

"Mark has to take tango lessons with Nanette Himmelfarb!" Roger exclaimed, managing to pull himself together enough to inform Collins of their exciting news. Collins turned his head slightly to look at Mark, whose face was turning red in embarrassment, before chortling quietly.

"Collins!" Mark exclaimed, appalled that Collins was laughing at him.

"Sorry, man, but _tango lessons_?" Collins teased him good-naturedly. Mark dropped his head onto the table with a loud _thunk!_

"My parents hate me," he groaned.

"Come on, Marky, look on the bright side," Roger said, trying to be encouraging but finding it hard between laughs. "It could come in handy someday."

"Roger, when the hell am I ever gonna _tango_?"

"Well…" Roger trailed off, thinking hard. Finally he grinned deviously. "Someday, years from now, your girlfriend will dump you, deciding she's a lesbian. Then one day you'll meet your ex-girlfriend's new girlfriend and the two of you can tango!" He sat back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

Collins succumbed to a new bout of laughter while Mark stared at Roger with wide eyes. "That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

**Ten years later…**

"Hey…hey Roger," Mark said suddenly, looking up from the reels of film he was trying to edit. Across the loft, Roger glanced up from yet another attempt at tuning his guitar. "Did I…did I ever tell you about the time when Joanne and I first met?" Mark asked, his voice cracking with the urge to laugh.

Roger's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "No," he replied slowly.

Mark grinned deviously, a glint in his blue eyes. "We _tangoed_."

Roger stared at his roommate with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. "My God, Mark…I was _kidding_!"

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**End.

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**A/N: Okay, this was just a stupid little story that popped into my head the other night. Review if you want. **


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